


Betrothal

by mops



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Accidental Engagement, Alien Cultural Differences, Flower Crowns, M/M, Trans Character, spoilers for book 45
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 07:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3165704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mops/pseuds/mops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andalites are, at heart, children of nature and lovers of flora, and Aximili Esgarrouth Isthill is no exception. Marco has no idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Betrothal

**Author's Note:**

> So I noticed a distinct lack of cliche aliens-in-fiction tropes in most animorphs fic. Like, for instance, cultural misunderstandings and the age old “accidental engagement/marriage” trope, which is a dear, dear favorite of mine. So I wrote my own.

<You didn’t have to accompany me out this morning, > I said to Marco, as we walked through my favorite meadow for grazing, <I know how much you like to sleep in. >

 The sun was rising in the sky, and Tobias had taken off after our morning ritual to hunt for his breakfast while I enjoyed mine. Marco was balancing precariously on a fallen log as I grazed, wobbling on his unstable human legs. “Hey, it’s no problem, amigo. It’s actually pretty cool to see your alien ritual thing.” Marco tilted to one side, then the other, attempting to stand on one, oh no, only one leg before finally hopping off the log. He took a seat on top of it instead, smiling nonchalantly at my worried expression like he hadn’t just nearly toppled off a log with his horrible human balance. “There’s nothing on TV in the morning anyway. News, talk shows? Pff, who cares. I’d rather be hanging out with you than sitting in the scoop watching the weather.”

That final comment made my hearts thump. I turned all of my eyes away from him and didn’t reply. Honestly, as glad as I was to share my culture with my friends, having Marco watch my morning ritual made me feel… almost embarrassed. So far away from home, it had become quite private. But Marco was away from home too, he’d abandoned the life he’d known to save his family. Even if Marco’s actions were selfishly motivated, and even scared me sometimes, I respected his bravery immensely; it was all I could do to allow him to stay with me and join me for my morning ritual and grazing. My growing, concerning romantic attraction to him aside, of course.

I finished grazing and trotted over to Marco on the log. He was working diligently on something in his lap I couldn’t quite see, so I settled in on the ground behind his wooden seat. <What is that you’re making? >

Marco grinned conspiratorially, turning his body away from me and not looking up, “Oh, you know.” He said, continuing on.

<I don’t know, actually, that’s why I asked. >

He was silent for a while longer, and then- “Flower crown!” Before I could react, Marco reached up and worked a chain of earth flowers called daisies over my eye stalks and let it fall over my forehead. It hung in front of my main eyes, and I sat there and let it. I was speechless, my fur on end and my tail blade quivering. I was wearing a flower crown. Marco had made this chain of flowers for me, and he had placed it on my head. Slowly, slowly, I reached up and touched the daisies. They were certainly real. My hearts beat thunderously. Marco was looking at me strangely, clearly waiting for some kind of reaction.

<Marco… > I’m sure my thought speech was tremulous, <Is this… is this really for me? Y-you made this for me? >

Making a face at me, Marco started laughing, “Do you see any other big blue dudes hanging around this field, Axman? Duh, I made it for you.” He grinned widely at me, and my fur bristled again in response, “Do you like it?”

I was overcome with emotion. Had he known this whole time how I felt? Had I been so obvious about my affection for him? More importantly, he felt the same? The same… and strongly enough to make me this crown? I exhaled softly, shutting my main eyes for a moment and collecting myself before continuing. <I _love_ it.  > I reached forward and clasped his hand between both of my own. Marco jumped slightly, but allowed it. <I will treasure this forever, Marco. Thank you. >

He laughed, sounding nervous, "Heh, calm down, Ax. You make such a big deal out of everything, you know?" But Marco was still smiling, and he delicately pulled his soft brown hand from my grip. He stood up, brushed the bark bits from his jeans. "Are you all full? Let’s go back to the scoop, I haven’t eaten yet."

<Of course. > I stood up instantly to follow him. I walked a few paces behind him as we returned, too lost in my own thoughts to join him at his side just now. I hope he didn’t take it as a sign of offense, of course- I was not the most perfect of andalites, but I would not make Marco regret promising his hand to Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill.

-

I was certainly the worst fiance ever. It’d been days, but I had failed repeated attempts at the sort of romantic gestures that were expected of someone in my position. The good news was that Marco didn’t seem to mind at all. He still sat close to me when we watched TV, he still put his head on my shoulder whenever he got bored of watching me work on our computer, he still let me have most of his salty human food he got from Jake now and then.

Still… I glanced over at him sitting in his “bean bag chair”, a soft and bulbous cushion that served as a comfortable seat for humans. I tried it once in human morph and I’d gotten stuck and Marco had to pull me out of it, so I’d yet to understand the full appeal of it. Marco was paying no attention to me sitting by the computer, too absorbed in whatever he was reading in one of the many books he’d brought over to the scoop. On the bookshelf next to him was a fine-toothed comb Cassie’d given me a long time ago, to help remove the brambles and burrs, sharp seed pods of earth plant life, that would sometimes become tangled in my fur. Earth plants are very unfriendly. I stood, took the comb and sat down again, this time behind Marco’s bean bag.

"Oh, hey Ax." Marco tilted his head backwards to look up at me. He smiled, and my hearts jumped. "What’re you doing?"

<Your hair, > I said, stupidly, <I mean, I would like to comb it. I know you like to keep your hair well-kept. >

"Oh." Marco averted his eyes and his face flushed with blood. He looked back down at his book. "Okay." He mumbled, "That’s okay. Go ahead." So I ran the comb through his hair, working carefully at any snags and gently as to not pull too much on his hair. I must have been doing well, because Marco just settled back into reading his book, leaning his upper body back against mine. His hair wasn’t as long as it had been when I’d first met him, it had been well past his shoulders, but it was still thick, and soft, and colored a deep glossy black. I let myself run my fingers over a lock of hair as I combed through it.

Marco shivered at the contact. I almost jumped. “You’re good at this.” He commented offhandedly. “Thanks.”

<It’s no problem, > I said, attempting the same casual tone, <I love your hair. >

"You what?"

<Oh ho ho, what’s up? Am I interrupting something? > Tobias swooped down from the sky, lighting atop our computer monitor. Tobias knew about my feelings for Marco- he did not yet know about our betrothal. Yet still he teased me.

<Yes, you are. > I said just as Marco boisterously said, arms sweeping wide, “Welcome to Aximili’s Salon! You want a feather trim? A wing clip? Just ask the maestro back here, he’ll fix you right up.”

I moved away from Marco, embarrassed at having been caught in the middle of such a tender act, even if it was my shorm doing the catching. I sat back down in front of our computer, and Tobias stared me down intently. <What was that, Axman? Did you make a move finally? > He asked privately.

My stalk eyes drooped shyly. I shrugged my shoulders and probably did a bad job of concealing my happiness. <You could say that. >

<Oh, dude! Ax. > Tobias’s hawk eyes glittered and his head snapped between me and Marco, who had gone back to reading on the bean bag. <Congrats. I’m really happy for you. >

<Thank you, Tobias. I am happy, too. >

-

It took a few days and many discarded attempts, but finally it was ready. I’d made Marco a flower crown of his own. It was more stiff than my chain of daisies, thick rose stems twisted together, blooming high in the front and padded with lavender woven around the thorns. My hands were sore from the constant jabbing of the thorns into my fingers, but it was nothing that I couldn’t morph away if I had to. The important thing was that it was done, and ready to be given to Marco.

Marco was sitting in front of our computer, “surfing the web” as he would say. I could see from where I stood that he was looking intently at a page detailing the laws of thermodynamics and various related variables on the subject. <Marco. > I said, and he jumped, quickly switching the page over to a ‘Baywatch’ fansite. When he looked over at me, his expression softened.

"Whoa, haha, heyyy Axman. Thought you were Tobias or someone." He said, clicking back over to the physics webpage. "I have an image to maintain, you know. So what’s up?" I merely fidgeted in response, and Marco seemed to notice. "You got something behind your back? Is it a surprise?" He grinned, "I love surprises, lemme in on it."

<It’s for you, > I said, and revealed the flower crown. Marco was either confused or speechless, so I continued. <I made this flower crown for you, > I explained. I might have been mumbling in embarrassment. <Will you… will you accept it? >

Marco stared at it a little longer, maybe silently judging it for quality. I’d really done what I could with the earth plants I’d had. “Uh, sure, I guess,” He said at length, “It’d be rude not to, right?”

I sighed heavily in relief, <Yes! Of course. Here, please allow me… > I trailed off and raised the crown. Marco bowed his head slightly in my direction, and with barely trembling hands I placed the lovingly-crafted crown upon his head. The deep red and the soft purple stood out brightly against his black hair, locks of it already curling up against the stems. He looked beautiful. <It looks beautiful. > I said instead.

Marco reached up to touch the crown, making sure it was in place. He smiled. “It is pretty cool. Thanks, Ax, I didn’t know you were so, y’know, all artsy or whatever.”

<I have my moments. > I confessed, <May I sit with you? >

In response, Marco simply scooted to the side and patted the ground next to him in invitation. “C’mon, maybe you can explain some of this terminology to me in Marco-friendly language.”

I sat down. <I will certainly try my best. > And when Marco leaned his head on my shoulder, careful of his crown, I knew everything was going to be alright.

-

"You’ve got to really crack down on getting Marco to clean up more around here, Ax." Cassie said, sitting across from me on the floor of my scoop. She’d brought me a happy surprise; a box of fresh cinnabons, as well as some more food for Marco. Cassie’s parents were out for the day, allowing Marco to use her shower and wash his clothing, so he was absent. I was in my human morph, in order to eat the delicious cinnamon buns.

"I don’t mind it," I said, although it came out sounding more like "I donf memph if" as it is very difficult to talk and eat at the same time. A terrible flaw in the human body, honestly. I chewed and swallowed. "Marco assures me that he has a ‘system’ in place, and that he knows where everything, ing, is. I don’t have very many po-po-possessions to begin with. So I don’t mind."

Cassie picked at her own cinnamon bun and sighed, glancing around at my scoop. It looked considerably different from how it was when just Tobias and myself lived here. Marco’s bean bag took up an entire corner, and his amount of books and magazines required a whole new shelf to contain them. Some of them rested haphazardly on top of our computer monitor. His bedding lay parallel to my own, but was infinitely more complex, a messy nest of blankets, pillows, and clothes yet to be folded. Indeed, Marco had left his mark on my dwelling. “At least,” Cassie said, “Make him fold his clothes when he gets back from my house, okay? I don’t want him taking advantage of your hospitality or anything.”

I frowned. “Marco is taking, ing ing ing, advantage of nothing. A-duh-van-tage. I really enjoy his company.”

Cassie raised her eyebrows, a human expression of skepticism. “I thought you’d think Marco was annoying to live with.”

"I would never say that, never, verrrr." I went to grab another cinnamon bun, only to find I’d eaten them all. My face fell in disappointment. "I love Marco." I said without thinking.

If Cassie’s eyebrows were raised in skepticism before, they were raised even further now in surprise. “Huh?” Cassie said. She put down her fork and leaned across the table. “You… does Marco know?”

I huffed and crossed my arms. “Of, ovvvv, of course Marco knows. He returns the feeling, ings! Here…” I stood up, unsteady in my sad bipedal body, and crossed the scoop to where our flower crowns rested on top of a bookshelf. “We exchanged these, and now we are betrothed to one another, ther. I made this one for him as an expression of my love and devotion.” I took Marco’s rose and lavender crown and turned to show Cassie. Cassie was not looking at me. Cassie was looking at Marco, standing in the entrance to the scoop, who was looking at me. He dropped his heavy bag of laundry on the floor.

"What?" He said. I could not decipher the tone of his voice.

Cassie stood very suddenly. “Well! I’ll be… I’ll be going then.” Neither of us made any attempt to stop her. On her way out of the scoop, she placed her hand on Marco’s shoulder and gave him a look I couldn’t see. He glanced uneasily at her, and she was gone. He looked at me again, and once again the emotion behind the expression on his face was unreadable.

"Can you demorph?" Marco asked, voice wavering.

I began immediately, but asked, “What for?” before my mouth melted away.

"I just want to be looking at the real you." But Marco wasn’t looking at me at all, he was watching the ground and scuffing the toe of his shoe against it. I was nearly done, still clutching his crown when he spoke again. "Ax… um, look, flower crowns don’t… I guess they’re important to andalites, but to humans they’re just, you know… they’re just for fun. They don’t really mean anything. We’re not engaged, dude." He still wouldn’t look at me. But I felt as if he’d struck me. The breath was knocked out of me in a rush. They meant nothing? There was no meaning behind the daisy chain he’d made for me? My crown for him meant nothing to him at all?

<Oh, > I said quietly, processing, <Oh, no. But you… you heard… >

"What you said to Cassie." Marco confirmed. He shoved his hands in his pockets and his shoulders were hunched, making him appear even smaller than usual. My hands tightened on the crown and a thorn pricked my finger. I felt a great burning shame roiling in my gut. It was humiliating, I’d spent so long just assuming what I felt and what everything meant was reciprocated, understood. I’d revealed my emotions so plainly, so vulnerably and it was all just a misunderstanding, a lack of communication between cultures.

"Did you mean it?"

I looked up. Marco was looking at me, a familiar determination on his face. <What? >

"What you said to Cassie, about- about how you feel. About me. Did you mean it?"

<I did. I do. > I said pathetically, resigning myself to this confession. My eyestalks drooped, but I looked at him with my main eyes. <I am in love with you. > Marco was quiet, so I went on. <I’m sorry. I really thought that you, also… >

"It’s okay," Marco said suddenly, "It was my fault to begin with. I led you on and I didn’t even know it." He looked up at the ceiling, ran his hands through his still-damp hair, and let out a huge exhale of breath. When he looked back down at me, he was smiling. "It’s kind a relief, actually."

I was wary. <What do you mean? >

Marco just shook his head, still smiling, and walked right up to me, shoe tips brushing my hooves. He reached up and placed the palm of his hand against the side of my face. Instantly I bristled, a shiver raising every inch of fur on my body. “I thought it was just me with the weird xeno thing.” Marco explained quietly. “But you got it just as bad as I do, huh?”

<Marco… > I managed to say. With all the misunderstandings occurring between us lately, I had to be precisely clear about what his actions meant, what _this_ particular action meant to me.  <This… your hand, this is a very… a very close equivalent to your… human kissing. >

Marco just grinned. “I know.”


End file.
